When in 1929 a Canadian engineer received her master’s degree in aeronautical engineering, she was moving on two metal crutches after surviving polio. A decade later, she was overseeing the production of nearly 1,500 Hurricane fighters that helped defend British skies against the Luftwaffe.
The Daughter of a Judge and a Pioneer
Elizabeth Muriel Gregory MacGill was born in Vancouver in 1905 into a family where breaking barriers was a daily occurrence. Her mother, Helen Gregory MacGill, was the first female judge in British Columbia and a former active suffragette. Her father worked as an immigration lawyer, which, during times of increasing racial tensions in the province, exposed the family to significant financial hardships.
Young Elsie’s education initially took place at home, in a formal system modeled after public schools. Among her teachers was Emily Carr, who would later become a famous painter. As a teenager, Elsie already demonstrated technical talents, helping with home repairs—a skill that proved invaluable to her family’s budget in difficult wartime years.
At just sixteen, MacGill began studying at the University of British Columbia, but the dean of the Faculty of Applied Science asked her to leave after only one semester. This was not the end, but just the beginning of her journey. In 1923, she was accepted into the engineering faculty at the University of Toronto, where her presence in lecture halls caused quite a stir among her male peers.
A Diagnosis That Was Meant to End Everything
Just before graduating, fate presented MacGill with a brutal challenge. She contracted polio, and doctors declared that she would likely spend the rest of her life in a wheelchair. For a woman in her twenties who dreamed of designing airplanes, such a verdict could have signaled the end of her dreams. But Elsie refused to accept this diagnosis as final.
Over the following months, she fought to regain mobility. She learned to walk with the help of two metal crutches, and in 1927 received her degree, becoming the first Canadian woman to earn an electrical engineering diploma.
But this was just the beginning. She took a job at Austin Aircraft Company in Michigan, where her passion for aviation flourished. She then began her graduate studies in aeronautical engineering at the University of Michigan.
In 1929, MacGill made history as the first woman in North America, and likely the world, to earn a master’s degree in aeronautical engineering. She achieved this while still using crutches, proving that determination can overcome any obstacle. She continued her education at MIT, funding her doctoral studies by writing aviation articles for popular science magazines.
The Queen of Hurricanes
In 1938, MacGill became chief aeronautical engineer at Canadian Car and Foundry in Fort William, Ontario. There, she designed the Maple Leaf Trainer II, her first fully original trainer aircraft. Yet her greatest challenge came with the outbreak of World War II, when the factory was contracted to produce Hawker Hurricane fighters for the Royal Air Force.
The task was enormous. MacGill had to transform a plant of 500 employees into a modern aircraft factory with a staff of 4,500—half of them women. She was responsible for preparing the production of over 25,000 precision parts, all of which had to be fully interchangeable with British-built Hurricanes.
Her innovation extended beyond merely organizing production. MacGill designed systems for operating the aircraft in Canada’s harsh climate, including de-icing mechanisms and special ski landing gear for snow landings. By 1943, the factory had produced 1,451 Hurricane fighters, which fought in the Battle of Britain and on other fronts. The media dubbed her the Queen of Hurricanes, and her story even appeared in a biographical comic.
After Hurricane production ended, MacGill supervised the assembly of 835 Curtiss Helldiver dive bombers for the US Navy, continuing her contribution to the Allies’ victory.
From Airplanes to Women’s Rights
After the war, MacGill founded her own consulting firm in Toronto, which she ran with her husband, Bill Soulsby, whom she married in 1943. She became a technical advisor to the International Civil Aviation Organization, helping establish international regulations on passenger aircraft safety. In 1947, she became chair of the UN’s Stress Analysis Committee, becoming the first woman to lead any UN committee.
A broken leg in 1953 became an unexpected turning point. During her recovery, MacGill began sorting her mother’s documents and wrote her biography. This work reignited her passion for fighting for women’s rights, inherited from her mother and grandmother, both active suffragettes.
In the 1960s, MacGill became increasingly active in the fight for equality. She served as president of the Canadian Federation of Business and Professional Women’s Clubs, and, in 1967, was appointed to the Royal Commission on the Status of Women in Canada. She co-authored a groundbreaking report published in 1970, and added a separate opinion advocating for more radical reforms, including the complete decriminalization of abortion.
For her advocacy of women’s rights, she received the Order of Canada in 1971. She often said that while she was proud of her engineering honors, she wanted to be remembered as a defender of women’s and children’s rights. She died in 1980 in Cambridge, Massachusetts. Her life stands as proof that neither gender nor disability need limit human potential when accompanied by sufficient determination and talent.
Margot Cleverly
Margot's journey into women's history began with a box of forgotten letters in a Cambridge archive – suffragettes whose voices had been silenced for over a century. Since then, she's been on a mission to uncover the stories history overlooked.
What she writes about: Queens who ruled from the shadows. Scientists whose male colleagues took credit. Revolutionaries who risked everything. But also ordinary women – those who survived wars, raised families through upheaval, and shaped their communities in ways no one bothered to record.
Margot turns historical figures into real people. She writes with warmth and detail, making centuries-old stories feel surprisingly relevant. Rigorous research meets accessible storytelling – no dusty academic jargon, just compelling narratives backed by solid facts.
When she's not writing, you'll find her in regional archives, collecting oral histories, or visiting sites connected to the women she writes about.
